Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1887-12-24

straight across the river as the swift
current would allow, Zeb dropped the
jugs overheard some ten feet apart.
When our jugs were all deployed we
took up our position in the rear and
centre of our skirmish-line of stone
ware hobs, and drifted with the current
down stream.
Presently skirmisher number two, on
the left of the line, commenced acting in
a most peculiar and unsoldier-like man
ner; after bobbing his head under water,
first on one side and then on the other,
and taking one or two preliminary and
undignified summersaults, he started on
the double quick in a straight line up
stream. When we had headed the skitf
to our rear in pursuit of the runaway, l
was astonished to find that this proven
bially lazy darby, whose own brother
described as "too lazy to turn over in his
Sleep" was not only an enthusiastic and
energetic fisherman, but with his splendid
physique and long arms he pulled a
stroke to gladden. the heart of any college
crew. After lively chase we captured
the animated jug and found it's motive
power to have been twelve pound cat
fish. AS soon as we could get our jug
and cat" safely aboard we hurried back
to the skirmish line again to find that
another jug had deserted, skedaddled and
disappeared entirely.
81 golly, guess dat ar jug must dun got
a whale on dis year time fob suah," re-
scanned the rivers surface for the lost
jug. "Dah he !" he added, pointing out
our missing float, as it came bobbing up
serenely some ten rods ahead of our line
of battle; we pulled pretty lively for it,
but before we reached the spot it had
again disappeared. l asked Zeb if he
didn't think it probable that we had
caught an alligator on that jug. "The
Lawd, dere must be sunfin big on dat ar
hook; but whatever it war, we hadent
dun cotched it yet"
The next time our skirmisher appeared
we came up to it, Zeb unshipped his oars,
and bent over the side of the boat, but be-
fore he could reach it down went the jug,
and II poked it, trying to catch the string
on my oar as it passed under our skiff.
"Look a here, you black bunch of
bones the next time that jug comes to
the top of the water you hang on to your
oars, and IH do the catching"
The chase was becoming exciting and
I was catching the juggling mania, if
nothing else. Whatever it was on that
hook was getting tired for the jug bobbed
up almost Immediately not far from US.
Zeb pulled, 1 hastily unshipped my oars,
rolled up my shirt sleeve, got a good grip
on the gunwale and leaned out to grasp
the jugs handle as we passed; it was a
pretty long reach, but caught it; the
jerk was awful sudden and good deal
heavier than l expected. Whether the
"black bunch of bones" retaliated by
backing his oars just at that minute l
don't know, but l do know that there
was big whir in the water and over
board went, heels over head, into the
muddy Mississippi. In doing so I
must have performed an evolution SINH
lar to what boys in my day used to call
"skinning the cat" for somehow man
aged to hang on to both the gunwale and
the jug handle. did not quite upset
the skiff, but came near enough to it to
brighten poor Zeb pretty badly, for, as l
afterward learned, he did not know how
to swim.
After considerable splash, splutter and
excitement Zeb got hitch on the jug
line and helped me into the boat; then
we together landed thirty-pound cat
fish. This was enough for us both for
one mornings work, and by the time